The Prophetical Children
by Rainbow Rattattata
Summary: Remember Dare's prophecy in L.O.? This is the story about the Prophetical Children, five Hybrid demigods who are on a quest to keep monsters at bay and the gods at power. Read and Review. Thank You.
1. Chapter 1

I stared at the tall archway of Camp Half-Blood, my eyes looking over that rickety old sign that'd been hanging there since the Titans ruled. The tree still glistened with the Golden Fleece; oh gods, that fragile little thing had to be millennia old.

I looked up at my mother pleadingly. "Mom, I don't want to go. I obviously don't belong. Where would they put me?"

Daughter of famous Perseus Jackson and Annabeth Chase-Jackson; I was Thalia Jackson, the sandy haired _thingy_ that they still couldn't name. After all, what would they call the child of two demigods? Would I still just be a half-blood, or a god? Or did I just go back to being human? The unanswered questions roamed my mind as my mother smiled at me.

"Calm yourself," she answered irritably. "Dionysus is an old friend. He'll make sure you're in a safe place."

"Yeah, right," I muttered to loud for her to hear. Safe place? There was no such thing for people like me. They say I'm strong, really strong, because I've got the power of Athena and Poseidon at my free use, but not coordinated enough to defeat a monster. Mom and Dad tried to keep me away from that sort of stuff.

"How many are there?" I asked.

"Excuse me?"

"How many?" I repeated. Gods, I would have to clarify it. "How many of… us?"

Mom bit her lip, something she did when she didn't know what to say. "Four others," she finally managed after several dull seconds. "You'll share a cabin with them. They built one just in case, but it only came into use very recently, when demigods began mating. Most demigods just go with mortals, to try and keep the gene away from their children."

"Why?" I asked.

"It's a dangerous life, Thalia, but I believe you can do it. Besides," she said in a whisper, "Grandmother will watch over you. I know she will."

I left my mom at the entrance, us both thinking it'd be best if I went to Dionysus alone. He was sitting at the Dionysus table, sipping a Dr. Pepper while shouting at a pair of Ares who'd started fighting. He wore a ratty Hawaiian-type shirt with a straw hat and lobster red sunburn. He gave me a sideways glance as I looked him over.

"New kid." He sipped his Dr. Pepper before turning to me. "What do you want?"

"I'm Thalia Jackson," I said, putting out my hand for him to shake. When he declined I brought it back to my side. "I'm Annabeth Chase-Jackson and Percy Jackson's daughter."

Dionysus turned to me with sudden interest. "You're a Hybrid?"

Hybrid? So that's what we were called. Hybrid, like a car. How nice. "Sure."

He stared at me utterly amazed for a second before standing up and walking toward a place between the Nemesis cabin and Hestia cabin. It was a span of almost twenty feet, with nothing there but scraggly patches of grass and dirt. "Okay. There you go."

I stared at the space and rolled my eyes. "Nice," I said sarcastically. "What is it?"

Dionysus turned to me but didn't say a word. Instead, he shoved me into the air with all the might his human form could muster.

But I didn't land in the space, but a cabin. It was gorgeous, with ornate designs on frames of all the gods and white carpets and white walls. There were also five twin-size bed, each with its own nightstand. Each bed was decorated differently, except for a plain bed in the corner that wore only standard camp bedsheets. I assumed it was my bed.

"Um, can you let me in?" asked Dionysus. "The force shield around it keeps out monsters or other demigods, and will only show if needed. You have to invite me in."

"Come on in."

He came in and looked over my bed. "How do you want it decorated?"

"I don't care. Half and half, I guess," I answere as I looked around. There was books for Athena, weapons for Ares, and so on, each god or goddess (even the minorities) having its own element in the room.

"There."

I turned to see my bed. It was sea blue with moving images, Athena and Poseidon side by side, actually getting along. A surfboard shelf hung over it like a canopy, and fresh olives in a bowl. I also saw a saltwater fountain gurgling by my bed. Poseidon's element.

"That was your father's," he said. "A gift from his father."

I looked at it in amazement. Dad had told me about it, illustrating how it worked. He said it, other than his sand dollar, was the best gift he'd ever gotten from Poseidon.

"Now, you will be granted access to both the Poseidon and Athena cabins, as all the other Hybrids to their grandparents. I may introduce you to the other four now, if that is fine. They've been anxious to meet you," Dionysus said as we ventured out. "We also must take you to the Big House. I have a feeling you might be one."

"One?"

"Never mind," he ordered. "Let's go meet your new cabin mates."


	2. Chapter 2

The four of them stood in a line so straight they must've been taught by a flat iron. They all looked scared, too. The four people looked at me, and I looked at them, unable to speak in full sentences. They were like me. There were others like me.

The first one came up cordially, her hair flowing beautifully. It was long, raven, and set in such perfect curls that I almost ripped them out of her head. She was perfect, doll like in the face, but her body was lean and muscular, like an athlete's. She had a competitive look on her face, an alluring one. "I'm Rowena Brown, granddaughter of Ares and Aphrodite."

Rowena went back and the second came forward, a small, olive-skinned boy came up. "I am Paolo di Angelo, grandson of Hades and Persephone."

I nodded at him, watching as he went back into the line and a girl came up behind him. She was pale and redheaded, with oodles of freckles and the rosiest cheeks in the world. Her eyes were a medley of colors, and a glassy orb sat in her hand. I could feel electricity and magic emit from it. "I'm Cynthia Harrison, granddaughter of Hecate and Iris." The orb flashed brightly before fogging up again and dimming its harsh light.

The fourth was a brawny, yet brainy-looking boy. His hair was dark and messy, and his skin was pinkish and fair, in a cute sunburned way. He gave me a one-over, possibly deciding what to do next. He approached me, informally putting his hand out for me to shake. "I'm Devon. Grandkid of Athena and Ares. Devon Dawson."

It was cool, shaking hands with a good-looking kid who actually didn't act like a robot. I shook his hand as we exchanged smiles.

I saw a hint of jealousy in Rowena's eyes. I drew back immediately, almost tripping on my own leg. "I-I am Thalia Jackson. I'm the granddaughter of Poseidon and Athena."

"Jackson?" questioned Rowena enviously. "As in Perseus Jackson? Annabeth Jackson?"

"Annabeth Chase-Jackson," I corrected quietly. The four of them stared at me, each with a slightly different expression, but all with bulging eyes and in awe. "Yeah, that's Mom and Dad."

"Wow," scoffed Cynthia as she made her orb turn blue to gold to green. "Prove it. The Poseidon thing."

I looked to Dionysus for help. He handed me a can of Dr. Pepper silently.

"Use the carbonated water to do something," said Devon encouragingly.

I opened the can and poured some Dr. Pepper into my hand. I focused on the water, only the water. A small tug behind my navel pulled harshly. The soda sprayed up into the air before turning on Cynthia, showering her in Dr. Pepper.

She spit out some soda before sourly saying, "That. Didn't. Prove. Anything."

I thought of something, but Dionysus spoke before my thoughts materialized.

"Call Black jack. He'll only answer to those of Poseidon kin. Whistle. You can, can't you?" asked Dionysus as he sipped his Dr. Pepper thoughtfully.

I knew all about Blackjack, the black pegasus who called my father "Boss". Dad told me about him constantly. "Yeah, I can whistle. Dad taught me."

I whistled, drawing it out sharply. There was no answer for a few seconds, but a speck of black in the air came closer, morphing into Blackjack. He landed near me, neighing happily. "Hey, Boss."

I looked the horse over. His mane was long, black, and fishy. Seaweed clung to his flanks restfully, in a way my father would love. I didn't love it, though. It was disgusting. "Ew. Leave, please."

"You're not Boss," said the pegasus sadly. His sadness turned to defiance in two snap seconds. "I don't have to listen to anybody who isn't Boss. Who do you think you are anyway?"

"His daughter," I replied sourly.

"Boss' daughter?" he asked. Blackjack didn't wait for an answer. "Wow, kid, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to offend you. I'm at your service. Anything you want?"

"Yeah,"I replied. "Don't call me 'kid'. And, leave. I'm not your boss, and you aren't at my service. You're just a smelly horse with wings."

The pegasus looked sad, but that was what I was aiming for. I licked my chapped lips and toyed with my sandy hair. "Go, now!"

Blackjack stared at me for a second, wondering whether he should stay or go. At last, he flapped his wings and began to hover up into the sky, but not very high up. He gave me a last hurt look and spoke gently, "I never thought another sea person would act like this toward me."

"Well, I'm not a sea person. I'm not a smart person, either. I'm me. So don't label me by my parents. They weren't a very good match together to begin with. I'm not Annabeth Chase-Jackson's daughter, or daughter of Percy Jackson, or grandkid of Poseidon and Atthena," I said. "I'm me."

I left, then. I left the other Hybrids to their gossip and Dionysus to his sipping and staring, and I walked into the cabin, alone. That's all I wanted. I wanted to be alone.


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner was awful. I sat at the Hybrid table, dodging stares and nibbling on my food. My appetite was going down the drain, which, considering I was the granddaughter of Poseidon, should've been good, but I felt like crap. After offering portions of my food to both Athena and Poseidon (Rowena told me to do that) and pouring some Sprite into the offering fire, I sat at the edge of the short table that I shared with the four other cabin mates.

"Hello," spoke a musical, melodious voice. Redheaded Cynthia sat next to me, her tray floating steadily in mid air. She let it drop down with a flourish, no doubt waiting for me to give her a compliment. When I stayed silent, her eyes flashed like an angry bolt of rainbow lightning. "I got the soda out of my hair, if you are wondering."

I gave her a sideways glance, hoping that if I were a bit mean, she'd take the hint and leave. "No I wasn't, but that's good. Must've took you a while, huh?"

"No, it didn't." Her voice turned frigid. She sat next to me and spread out her food, separating her peas from her mashed potatoes and roast. She took a bite and chewed quickly before saying to me, "I don't like you very much."

My mind ran at an amazing rate, trying to think of something to say. Why is it the bluntest things said that are the hardest to whip out a comeback for? Why not just be blunt back?

"Really?" I almost choked out my reply, not only from amusement but from defeat.

"Yes." Cynthia stared at me for a stretched out second. Her red hair wildly complimented her burning gaze all too well. I silently wondered if she had magically morphed her image to look like that, like her grandmother was known for doing.

"What did I do?"

"It's not about you. It's about your parents," she said as she dropped her fork onto the tray quietly and wiped her upper lip.

I pushed myself up angrily. I was sick of that stupid brat. "What the hell did my parents do?"

The entire camp was watching me now; showing my temper, I knew, wasn't wise, but I wasn't going to have Cynthia treat me poorly because of Mom and Dad.

"Your father and mother killed my aunt. Circe. I'm sure your jokes of parents told you that. I mean, you come up in here, all in rare-Hybrid mode, like 'Oh, my mommy and daddy are rich and famous. I'm special.'"

"I have not!" I yelled. "My parents aren't jokes. If anyone is a joke, it's you. You're just a stupid magic-shop crack-head. Nobody asked for your opinion, bitch!"

Okay, I crossed a line there, but my parents weren't anything like that, and her aunt turned them into rats or mice, or something. Circe deserved that.

Cynthia's eyes lit their fiery rainbow and she muttered something I didn't quite catch. However, I knew it was a spell. I dropped to the ground a second before a great ball of hot fire hit where my head would've been.

"This is how you want this?" I asked from the ground. "We could make a compromise, a deal. How about that?"

Cynthia answered with another fiery blow, this time the flame singeing the fine hairs on my arm. It wasn't just hot, it was burning and snapping; only a magical fire could act like that. I quickly got up from the ground, running away from Cynthia. I needed a weapon.

The Ares cabin was in running distance, but I guessed Cynthia could probably aim long-range as well. I decided to take my chances. Grabbing a tray, I lunged for the Are's cabin. I spotted a spear that would be perfect: round-ended, but hefty enough to land a few good blows. I held up the tray above my face, but Cynthia had other ideas. She hit the hem of my t-shirt, sending it up in flames.

My breasts heated up and my stomach began to burn. Suddenly, I felt an uncomfortable pull on my navel, and soda spurted out at me, quenching the hungry fire. Cynthia gasped in shock, but her nose flared, and I knew she wasn't done yet.

"I know where you are going! You'll never get there in time. Fight, if your parentage is true. Use your powers, you idiot, and pray to the gods for mercy!" Cynthia laughed a cold laugh and shot a warning flame at me.

She was right, and I knew it. I bit my lip. I figured she'd use more Hecate than Iris, and I bet she thought I'd use more Poseidon than Athena, but I knew I couldn't. Cynthia was powerful, and I needed the wisdom of Athena and the power of the seas my father gave me as a package.

I beckoned for her mockingly, again unwisely showing my temper. Cynthia ran at me, swift yet gracefully, but instead of attacking me, in mid-air she morphed into a snarling, tooth-baring Hellhound. Her coat was wild red and sticking straight up in all directions. My breath almost caught in my throat, but I swallowed hard. Like my temper, it would not be wise to show my fear, but I realized she could probably sniff it out of a mother load of manure.

I lunged, directly kicking her in the muzzle, but I wasn't as strong as she was; Cynthia (I learned later) had many years of training that I didn't. She whimpered at me, but lunged at me, knocking me across the pavilion with one well-aimed blow. The impact knocked the wind out of me, breaking a few bones as well.

I couldn't breathe, I couldn't see well, either. A girl with a crossbow in her hands came at me, and I saw the Hades-Persephone boy Paolo bark an order at Cynthia, and she changed form once more, into her human self. Then, I blacked out.


End file.
